


Long Time Traveller

by musicmillennia



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Final Fantasy XV: Kingsglaive
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, King Noctis, Nyx Ulric Deserved Better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 19:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14026824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: One second, Nyx is staring at his last sunrise. The next, he’s hearing a familiar, changed voice.(another ending for Nyx Ulric)





	Long Time Traveller

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to give this guy a better ending
> 
> title from the song of the same name--I recommend Wailin' Jennys' cover

One second, Nyx is staring at his last sunrise. The next, he’s hearing a familiar, changed voice calling, “Kings of Lucis… _come to me_!”

Then he’s hearing pain. Too much pain for one person, more than even Nyx and his deal had burned into him. The Prince’s scream stabs Nyx’s ear with heated blades—he would’ve fought another war to stop it.

But it has to be done, doesn’t it. This is the gateway to that future Lunafreya had promised. Never mentioned this, though—probably for the best.

Where is he, anyway? There’s nothing but swirling colors of empty space. He’s sure he’s _somewhere_. Figures the afterlife doesn’t have a mother or sister waiting for him.

Does that mean Prince Noctis is dying?

It sounds like he is.

A whisper, exhausted, relieved: _“It’s finally over.”_

No one that young should have so much weight in their voice.

Nyx blinks, and a King appears before him. He’s dressed in a black suit and spotted with dirt. His eyes still glow with mauve power, clawing from his unshaven face. When he sees Nyx, he’s amused.

“Nyx Ulric, right?”

Nyx starts. Then he smiles and bows. “King Noctis. You’ve grown up, huh?”

How long has he been in—wherever this is?

Noctis scoffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah.”

Nyx looks around. “So. Don’t suppose you know anything about the afterlife? Would be nice to see my family.”

Noctis shakes his head. “This isn’t the afterlife.” The glow in his eyes finally fades, revealing dark circles. “Your life was absorbed into the Crystal.”

Nyx’s eyes widen. “This is the Crystal?”

“Yeah. I saw you—before. When I had to learn what I had to do. But you were far away. I don’t think you knew what was going on.”

Nyx shrugs. “I only remember the sun rising. And a whole lotta pain.”

Noctis nods slowly. “Yeah. I know the feeling.” He looks up. “The sun should be rising now. The Eternal Night is gone, along with the Scourge.”

“So we’re stuck here?”

Noctis smiles again. It’s nothing like the carefree, callous teen Nyx had known. Regis’ burden is in the curve of his lips and Eos’ burdens around his eyes.

“I think only one of us should be a martyr.”

Nyx purses his lips. “I didn’t fight to protect your city.”

“No. You protected the future.”

Noctis takes his hands and squeezes them tight. Holes are forming in his flesh.

Nyx will never forget the King’s face when he murmurs, “Thank you.”

Light, pure and beautiful, glows softly between them.

“A lot of time has passed,” Noctis says, looking at him while Nyx stares at the power between them, “but I think you’ll get back into the swing of things.”

Nyx’s head whips up. “Wha’d’you mean?”

Noctis’ smile never wavers. “I have a little bit of power left. And the Astrals kinda owe me one.”

Nyx’s heart leaps to his throat. “I—I made my peace, Your Majesty.”

“Nyx, you’re not dead.” Nyx jolts. “Just scattered in the Crystal.” The light travels up Nyx’s arms. “You should live the rest of your life first.”

“What about you?”

For one bare second, Noctis falters. Emotions gloss his eyes. Nyx finds himself aching at the sight.

Then it’s gone, replaced by another smile. “I don’t think I can leave.”

“ _What_?”

“I’ve made _my_ peace, Nyx. Besides, I’ve been in the Crystal before. My body’s definitely dead—I can’t go back.”

“Your Majesty—”

“I’ve said my goodbyes.”

Noctis presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes. “Walk tall.” He smirks, almost, _almost_ looking like that young boy, “ _Hero_.”

 

Nyx wakes gasping on the steps of the throne room.

“Whoa!”

“Is that—?”

“What is it?”

Nyx sits up. He blinks. “Gladio? Ignis? And…Prompto, right?”

Prompto gasps. “Nyx Ulric knows my name!”

Ignis stiffens. “Nyx Ulric is supposed to be dead.”

“Uh, apparently not,” Nyx says, scratching behind his ear, “I was uh. Scattered or something, in the Crystal. But the King restored me.”

A hushed silence swallows the room.

“The King?” Ignis whispers.

Nyx stands, grim-faced. “He said his body was dead.”

Gladio raises his eyes. Nyx follows his gaze and stills.

Regis’ sword pins Noctis’s slumped form to the throne. As the sun rises, his blood drips from the blade. He’s in the same shape as Nyx had seen him earlier—dirty, unshaven—but so damn small.

“We were about to—take him off,” Gladio says hoarsely, “Then you showed up.”

Nyx swallows. “Right. Yeah.”

They walk up the steps like pall-bearers to a coffin. The closer they get, the more Nyx’s chest hurts.

_I don’t think I can leave._

All this—saving the world, stopping the Scourge, and he doesn’t even get a happy ending.

“Guess I missed a lot,” Nyx says quietly.

“Yes,” Ignis replies, “We will tell you all we can.” He clears his throat. “But I think we should tell you now that Lady Lunafreya is dead.”

Nyx squeezes his eyes shut. Behind them, a woman, stern and wise, leaps recklessly from a ship. A woman who does—did not fear death because the Oracle’s power eats at her the way the Power of Kings must have eaten at Noctis. A strong princess who had to be strong because there was no alternative.

She was also a woman who would never give up on those she loved.

Nyx opens his eyes and smiles. “Then the King’s in good hands.”

If there’s anyone who can guide Noctis from the Crystal, it’s that damn stubborn Lady Lunafreya. They’ll both find happiness. They’ve done enough for the world anyway.

“Yeah,” Prompto rasps.

Together, Gladio and Nyx pull the sword from Noctis’ body, Ignis and Prompto steadying him. Nyx takes the sword. Gladio takes Noctis.

“What d’you think they’ll call his tomb?” Prompto asks.

“The Tomb of the Chosen, most likely,” Ignis says softly. He feels his way to Noctis’ head to settle it on Gladio’s shoulder, and Nyx finally gets a good look at his eyes.

“What happened?” he demands.

Ignis shakes his head. “It’s an old wound.”

The four of them harbor the King into the sun. The light caresses him. Looking at his face, Nyx almost hopes he’ll twitch and groan at being woken up. Always did that when Nyx threw open his curtains and told him he’d be escorting him to the Citadel.

“You’re not gonna actually bury him in a stuffy tomb, right?” Nyx asks.

Ignis ducks his head. “No. I think not. Perhaps by a river, where the fish are bountiful.”

“Or near the ocean,” Prompto croaks, forcing a laugh. “Plenty of fish there.”

Gladio holds his King tighter. “Cape Caem?”

Prompto wipes his eyes. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

For now, they set Noctis on a nearby stone and resolve to call Cindy for a car. She’ll be able to maneuver one through the rubble.

Nyx places his hand on Noctis’ shoulder. _Thank you. I hope you meet Lady Lunafreya soon._

Might be his imagination, but the dawn seems to shine brighter.

 

“Noctis?”

The King’s head snaps up.

“Noctis.”

He turns around.

“ _Luna_.”

She’s wearing her wedding dress. Tears gather in Noctis’ eyes.

“We don’t want to be late,” she says gently.

The sun is smiling.


End file.
